Parachute
by myfriendsarevictorious
Summary: Inspired by Beautiful: The Carole King Musical, this story chronicles the life and relationship of Austin Moon and Ally Dawson, through love, hardship, friendship, and most importantly, the songs that make them what they are, a perfect partnership. AU
1. Chapter I

**This story is inspired by Beautiful: The Carole King Musical (actually, though, I was sitting in the theatre watching it when this whole story formed in my mind and it was all thanks to the musical). I do not own Austin & Ally nor do I own anything relating to Carole King (honestly, though, the story doesn't mention the musical at all). I just write. **

**The story is AU, some references to the plot of the series and the musical and I try to keep the all of the characters as in character as possible, in the given situations. Anyway, I'm hoping y'all enjoy this enough to leave a little review or constructive criticism or anything of that nature. I'm going to attempt to update this weekly until I finish. We'll see how that turns out. As for now, I think I will update on Sunday evenings.**

 **Thanks in advance,**

 **Lauren.**

 _Chapter I_

"Dad, come on, I can just feel it. This song could be a number one," Ally says, turning to her father who is sitting on a blue plastic chair in the practice room of their music store, having just finished playing her newest work.

"You're so right. It's beautiful, honey, but you're going to need to sing it in front of people in order for you to sell it. Someone has to hear it and like it before they'll buy it." Lester, her father, says standing up and moving over to the piano bench and putting his arm over his daughter's shoulder. She leans her head onto his shoulder and sighs.

"A dream's a dream. I can still dream it," she says lightly, then picks her head up again.

"You can watch the store today and tomorrow, right? You can get Trish to help you if you like, as well, because I'm going to be in Tampa until six tomorrow night."

"I know, Dad. I'm fine," she says, smiling at her dad. He returns it, knowing full well the level of responsibility his young daughter has. He stands up and gives her a hug.

"You'll get your voice someday. I promise. And for now, just writing the music, giving someone else something to say, is just as good." She leans into the hug more and squeezes her father tighter.

"Thanks, Dad. I'll see you tomorrow. Call me as soon as you get there!"

"Will do, sweetheart." He pulls away from the hug and runs his hand down her head, petting her hair in the same soothing way he's done since she was little. "I love you."

"Love you, too." She walks back over to the piano as her dad walks out and leaves the music store, headed to his car. She sits down and opens her songbook again, figuring she could still squeeze a little more writing time out of this lunch break before she has to reopen the store.

"Hey, Ally. Guess who got a job at that cupcake place all the way on the other side of the mall?" Trish groans, walking in and tossing her cupcake headband onto the counter of the store.

"You?" Ally asks sarcastically, closing her songbook and stashing it underneath the counter.

"Yup. How's it going?" Trish asks, walking around behind the counter.

"Well enough," she says turning around. "Just working on some new songs, drowning in the sorrow that I will never be able to actually sell them or perform them." Trish pulls Ally's head onto her should her pets her head dramatically, mocking the way her dad does it, until Ally shoves her away and smiles lightheartedly.

"There's the smile," Trish says teasingly. "You know there are so many people who would want to buy your songs if you just opened yourself up to it, Ally. You never know, one day Taylor Swift or, I don't know, Maroon 5 or something could be singing one of your songs!"

"Yes, because that's completely plausible," Ally chides.

"Yes it is!" Trish protests, then, giving in, walks back around to he other side of the counter and picks up her cupcake headband. "You know I'm right," she says, pointing the headband at Ally and smiling.

"What I _know_ is that a squared plus b squared equals c squared. What I don't know is that I'll be writing songs for the top recording artists in the world." She smiles back at Trish and is about to start in on another new topic, hoping to move the conversation away from her failings in the music industry, toward something a little more practical when she hears the drums behind her crash as someone starts playing them.

Trish and Ally whip around to see two boys, one blond, one ginger, around the drums with the blond one slamming on them with two corn dogs. Ally immediately runs out from behind the counter and grabs his hand.

"What are you doing?" Ally asks, scandalized by his inability to read clear signs.

"Playing the drums. It's okay - I'm really good!" He pulls his hand from Ally's grasp and goes back to playing the drums, only to have her grab his arm again, this time pulling him from the chair and pushing him toward the front door.

"Goodbye. Please. And read signs more carefully." Ally says.

"Stop, wait," Austin says, pulling himself to the side and grabbing a trumpet. "I can play anything, trust me." He starts playing the trumpet, then adds another one in front. "See, one trumpet _through_ another trumpet. Impressive right?"

"Incredibly," Ally snarks.

"And look," Austin says, tossing the trumpets down onto the counter and grabbing a harmonica, "I can play this too!"

"Yes, but can you _pay_ for it?" she asks, taking the instrument from his lips and wiping it with a tissue from under the counter.

"No… but when I become a famous singer I can pay for all the harmonicas I want." He said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, and when that happens I'll be glad to sell them to you," she replies with an exasperated smile, attempting to move the conversation closer to the door.

"Fine. But it's true. I'll buy that harmonica one day."

"Thanks, oh gracious oracle," she replies, waving them out the door and returning to the violated harmonica sitting on the counter and to Trish standing behind in the same spot she'd been.

"That was weird," Trish says. "But the blond was kind of cute. The ginger was too tall."

Ally nods and takes the harmonica from Trish's hand.

"Watch the store, please? I'm going to go wash this and I want to finish something I was working on earlier. So long as you don't have to get back to work, that is?"

"Nah, I don't care about work all that much," Trish replies, waving a hand in disinterest. "Can I hear the song, though?"

"When it's done," Ally says teasingly, waving the harmonica and ascending the stairs to the bathroom and practice room.

"Yeah, yeah," she responds, pulling out one of many magazines from under the counter and flipping through the pages, looking up every so often to see if anyone has come into the store.

A little while later, Trish making her way through a third magazine, the same two boys walk back into the store.

Barely glancing up, Trish speaks to them. "Yeah, no. You two gotta go. I'm watching the store and I don't feel like helping people and you two didn't make a very good impression last time we met."

"Oh _come on_ ," the redhead says, stretching the "on" to emphasize his mocking frustration.

"Fine, whatever. Just don't break anything." She waves them off and goes back to her magazine, glancing up every once in a while to make sure that neither of them is about to break anything.

" _I'm gonna make, make, make you do a double take,"_ Ally sings, slow and steady. It's good, the best song she's written by far, but it just isn't right and she can't quite hit on what's missing. She turns the page in her songbook over a few times, as if inspiration is lying between the pages, if she looks hard enough. That is, until she heard a clap from behind her.

"Wow, that was great," the boy says, pushing himself off of his oh-so-cool position leaning against the doorframe and walking into the practice room.

"You are _not_ supposed to be here," Ally says, standing straight up.

"That song was really, really good," Austin says, walking over to her, stretching his fingers over the songbook. Ally cringes at the sight but lets it go, hoping to make their exchange brief.

"Yup, I know, thanks very much, have a nice day," she says, filling in more and more phrases just to keep him from speaking again while she tugs him back toward the door, but he won't budge, his hands still strolling up and down the pages of her songbook.

"You know what would make this song really good? Making it faster. Oh, and changing some of these sad, depressing lyrics to something a little more upbeat, you know, something like… something like…," he pauses, not quite sure where to start, then reaches down and grabs her hand from his wrist and pulls her down onto the piano bench along with him. "Something like this," he says, spreading his hands over the keys.

" _Flip a switch. Turn on the lightning. Get it right. Show 'em how it's done."_ He starts singing, turning to Ally and back to the music every chance he can. She has to admit, it's good, probably better, than what she has

" _Da da da. No matter da da da, girl you know, you've got a number one,_ " he turns to Ally and smiles. "See, that line was inspired by you."

"You're cocky," she says teasingly, then more seriously, "Are you that good with coming up with lyrics on the spot all the time?

"I'm okay," he replies. "I kind of just feel what sounds right in each spot. But I can't write music for crap."

"Well, that's okay," she says. "I"m good at that."

"Really, now?" He questions, raising an eyebrow. "I guess we'll have to test that out with a trial song, perhaps?"

"Perhaps," she responds, then stands up. "Great, but now you really have to go. Go find your ginger friend and do something more productive with your time than bothering poor over-worked sixteen-year-old girls."

"Will do, Sergeant," he replies, heading toward the door, but then stops short. "You know, I'm sorry to say but I never caught your name." He holds out his hand to her as she walks toward him. She takes it in hers and shakes it once, noncommittally, then smiles.

"Ally."

"Well, it's nice to formally meet you. I'm Austin," he says, jokingly. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then, so long as you're not too over-worked, partner." He leans down and takes a scrap of paper and a pen from the desk, scribbles down his cell phone number, and hands it back to Ally.

"I wouldn't count on it," she answers, taking the paper, then she closes the door to the practice room behind him.

 **Thank you for reading. Don't be afraid to leave a quick comment or suggestion. Thanks for reading. Chapter two is all ready for next week.**


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter two, finally. (I actually uploaded on time!) Anyway, I have a lot of this story planned out and I think it's going to be good. Read and review!**

"Okay, so here's the 're going to help me fix this song, so much so that someone will just have to buy it from me and make it a hit," Ally starts, taking him by the shoulders and guiding him to the piano, excitement swelling in her voice.

"Okay, great, because I looked at the lyrics you texted me and I think I know how to make some of them even better," he says, taking his phone from his pocket, handing it to Ally, then proceeding to pull an old napkin from the depths of the same pocket. "Got it right here," he says. Ally gives him a disgusted look and he just smirks back at her, then hands her the napkin, which she takes with the tips of two fingers and lays down ever so gently on top of the piano in her practice room, then flattens it out and sits down on the piano bench.

Austin joins her on the bench and scoots in closer, shoving her off balance and making her glare at him, then grin. "Okay, moving on," she says, flattening the napkin again with both hands, then settling her fingers back atop the keys. She begins to sing the edited lyrics for the song.

 _"Flip a switch. Turn on the lightning. Get it right. Show 'em how it's done."_ She looks over at Austin as he watches her sing and watches her fingers on the piano. _"Free it up. No matter how you dress that song, girl, you know, you got a number one."_ She slows down and looks up from the napkin and the piano.

"It's good! Keep going!" Austin says excitedly, so she continues.

" _Go with it, you've got 'em where you want 'em. Drop the beat, they need to hear your sound. Play it up. it's coming down to you right now."_ She pauses, and drops her fingers from the keys.

"It's good, right?" Austin asks.

"Yeah, I mean, it's good, but it's also kind of, I don't know, meaningless. I mean I get it, it's about having fun and all that but, I don't know, it's good anyway."

"No way, you just don't get it because it's sped up. It's the same thing you were trying to say, trust me, just keep going. It's about facing your fears and making yourself memorable. Here, listen." Austin pushes Ally off-center again and spreads his hands over the keys, nudging her playfully to which she responds with a feigned smile. "Okay, here's the chorus, just like you had it, but faster, and like, with better lyrics in some places, too."

She glares at him and he shrugs a half-hearted apology. " _They wanna know, know, know your name, name, name. They want the girl, girl, girl, with game, game game. And when they look, look, look your way, way, way,"_ he sings, pausing a little at this point and looking over, nudging her to start singing.

" _You're gonna make, make, make 'em do a double take,"_ they sing together. They hold the last note out a little and when they're done they make eye contact for a split second, then return to the napkin and piano.

"It's good," Ally says, pulling the napkin closer to her and taking a pen from the top of the piano. "Really, actually. I'm a little surprised."

"Thanks," he says, a little curiously, then stands up. "So what are you thinking of doing with the song now? Selling it?"

"Pretty much. I mean, I can't sing it but I want someone to sing it, eventually. I just have to find someone willing to give me a shot - willing to give the song a shot."

"I'm sure you will," Austin says, holding out his hand to Ally. She takes it and stands up, then walks over to the desk with the pen and napkin and opens her songbook, beginning to copy down the edited lyrics for her song. Austin pulls a chair up next to her and watches as she writes.

"You have a lot of good lyrics, you know. A lot, you just need to be a little more confident, and I don't know, a little more fun too? Your lyrics are kind of depressing."

"Thanks for the input," she says indifferently, scratching out certain words in her chorus and writing in Austin's edits.

"Okay, well, bye, then," Austin says, walking toward the door and Ally waves, too absorbed in her songbook to take much notice.

On his way out, Austin bumps into Trish coming through the door. She says a quick apology as he does as well, then both of them continue, Trish excitedly pulling Ally's songbook away from her to the brunette's immense displeasure. Austin sticks around a few moments, watching as Ally frustratedly grabs for the songbook as Trish grabs her hand and pulls her over to the piano, then, realizing that they could still see him lingering, makes a quiet getaway down the stairs. As he reaches the landing though, he hears Ally scream and turns around, but realizes quickly that it was out of excitement as he hears the girls shouting cheerfully. He turns back quickly and finishes his descent then walks out the front doors without looking back again.

"You're serious?" Ally asks again, trying to process everything, sitting with her face in her hands, only looking up at Trish every few moments to see if her friend is still there, to make sure that she's not dreaming.

"A hundred percent," Trish responds, beaming.

"And... and he just said 'yes'?" Ally asks, still with tears welling in her eyes.

"Well," Trish's smile falters. "His secretary said that Starr Records is looking for new songwriters and that _maybe_ , if you passed meeting one or two other people, you could get a chance to bring him a demo of a song?" She smiled again, hoping that Ally would not freak out upon realizing the issue.

"Wait," Ally says, slowly. Dammit Trish thinks, and sits down on the piano bench beside Ally.

"Doesn't that mean...," Ally continues. "I... I have to _perform_ my song? In front of people who _aren't_ you or my dad?"

"Well, that's kind of the part I was hoping you'd miss...," Trish says.

" _MISS?_ " Ally responds, dazed and horrified. "I could never sing in front of people - especially people who are actually being paid to _judge me_. I just can't. I'm so, so, sorry Trish. I know how hard you must have tried to make this happen and I love you for it, but I just can't." She turns back to the piano, facing away from Trish, and sniffs, trying to stop herself from bursting into tears from anxiety and fear and pure frustration.

"I mean, come on, Ally. Just give it a shot? Jimmy Starr's secretary made you an appointment in two days. I'm not going to cancel it," Trish says, firmly, but upon seeing her friend begin to cry she pulls her against her shoulder and pets her hair, desperate for any solution. She looks around the room and sees Ally's songbook lying open on the desk where she threw it moments ago and gets an idea.

"Ally," she says, still petting Ally's head against her shoulder. "What if you invite that new partner of yours, Austin? He could be there for support, I mean, he wrote half of the song, right? It would only be fair."

Ally sniffles again and picks her head up and looks at Trish, her eyes red. "That's true," Ally starts, then picks up her phone from on top of the piano. "You're right, Trish. I'm sure it will be fine if there's someone else there to help me." She unlocks her phone and pulls up her conversation with Austin and asks him if he wants to come to the record company with her. His response is almost instantaneous - a resound "yes" in all capitals appears on the bottom left of her screen and she smiles at Trish.

Two days later, Austin pulls into the parking lot of Starr Records in his father's truck with Ally in the passenger seat, fumbling with her songbook, flipping through pages furiously and trying to keep her breathing controlled. Austin puts the car in park close the the building and reaches over, trying to take Ally's songbook from her, but she tugs it toward the window away from him.

" _Don't touch my songbook,_ " she scolded, putting it back on her lap as soon as he pulls his arm away.

"Are you ready," he asks quietly, looking at the clock on the dashboard. Trish told him to make sure to get there at least a half hour early- mostly because Ally was going to be reluctant to get out of the car, let alone enter the building.

"Um, just give me a minute," she says quietly, breathing deeply. Then she turns to him and nods quickly, putting her hand on the door handle and pushing it outwards. Austin follows suit and soon they are walking, quite slowly, through the parking lot toward the Miami branch of Starr Records.

"Ally Dawson and Austin Moon," Austin says as he approaches the counter in the office, his arm around Ally's waist keeping her steady.

"Of course," the man behind the counter says. He looks back at his computer then passes up two blank name tags and two visitors passes. "Security regulations," he says nonchalantly and then points them to a room off the the side with a bunch of cushy chairs and a few people lingering around in them, some with books like Ally's, others with sheets of paper and backpacks held tightly to them. Austin and Ally walk over to the room, thanking the secretary, and sit down on the remaining couch.

"This should be exciting," Austin says. He looks down at his watch and notices that they have another twenty minutes before their appointment. Very good - they're going to look more than prompt which is always a good impression. Ally starts petting her hair and eventually pulls some of it around to the front of her face and starts chewing it. Austin looks up and notices, then slowly pulls her hand away from her hair and she lets the hair fall from her mouth. She pushes it back behind her ear, but then quickly starts fumbling with her songbook again. Austin turns away and watches the other people in the waiting room, wondering what their songs might have to offer.

"Ally Dawson and Austin Moon?" A woman comes out with a clipboard and Austin leaps up off the couch. They've been waiting nearly an hour, and every minute Ally has been getting more and more anxious. He takes Ally, who is still sitting on the couch, by the arm and walks toward the woman. She directs them through a door and into a hall with a couple of offices and what looked like sound booths toward the other end. As they walk Ally slows down, and Austin slides his hand down into hers, squeezing it. She looks at him and gives a forced smile, but he returns it with a genuine one. The woman turns them into a room right before the sound booths and they enter to find two men and a woman sitting at a table, all holding coffee and talking. The room contained nothing more than the table and a couple of instruments -a simple piano, two guitars and two bases, an electric keyboard, drums, and some other small percussion instruments including a tambourine. Ally immediately turns around but Austin stops her and squeezes her hand. She turns back around in time for one of the men to get up to greet them.

"Hello," he says, holding out his hand. He's got a bright smile, dark skin, and rectangular black glasses that compliment his smooth head. "I'm Jimmy Starr."

Ally pushes immediately back into Austin, but Austin holds out his right hand and shakes Jimmy's, then nudges Ally to do the same.

"I thought this was just going to be a kind of audition," Austin says nonchalantly to Jimmy. He shakes his head.

"I like to see how my new artists and writers react to unexpected pressure," he says, grinning.

"Makes sense," Austin says, smiling back and making conversation.

"So what do you have for us," Jimmy asks, gesturing toward Ally and her songbook.

"Well," Austin says, realizing that Ally has very few words left in her and probably ought to save them for the song. "It's more her than me. She's the brains."

"Well, we're excited to hear what you have to offer Miss...," Jimmy pauses, then smiles again. "Dawson," he finishes confidently. Ally looks at him and nods then walks immediately to the piano. She sits down and puts her songbook against the stand on the piano. She spreads her fingers over the keys and opens her mouth to sing, but nothing comes out.

It takes a few moments to realize that Ally is not going to sing, and just as Jimmy and his two associates begin to get impatient Austin steps up quickly behind Ally.

"She has a sore throat," Austin lies, then tugs Ally's arm so she turns and looks at him. "Give us a second." Austin and Ally walk to the other side of the room.

"I can't," Ally whispers. "There's no way."

"It's okay," Austin replies. "Could you still play the piano?"

"Maybe, I mean, I guess, yes?" She says, unconfidently.

"Good," Austin replies and he turns toward Jimmy and his associates. "Alright, we're ready," he says.

Austin and Ally return to the piano and Austin picks up Ally's songbook. She cringes a little but Austin puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder and nods for her to start playing. As soon as she does, Jimmy and his associates seem interested and Austin takes this as a good sign as he starts to sing.

Eventually he puts down Ally's songbook and moves into the most open area of the little room. He knows the song by heart and figures it's worth it to put everything out there now - to help Ally, of course, and he starts dancing to the song. As soon as it finishes Jimmy stands up and claps along with his to associates.

"Austin Moon," he says in his echoing voice. "That was fantastic." He walks over to Austin and holds out his hand for him to shake again. "How would you two like to sell that song to Starr Records he asks, directing the question mostly to Austin as Ally has not looked up from the piano since the song finished. Austin walks over to Ally and nudges her. She stands up and reaches for Jimmy's hand this time.

"Of course, I would love to do business with you, Mr. Starr," Ally says, incredibly professionally.

"Great," Jimmy says. "And best of all I think I have a new artist in mind who would be perfect to perform that song." He looks at Ally and grins, then turns toward Austin again.

 **Alright. Thank you guys for reading. I'll see you next Sunday! Review if you like.**


End file.
